


Dozakh

by aykayem



Series: Fifty-two words [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aykayem/pseuds/aykayem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco starts to realise that he's in just a little too deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dozakh

  
_dozakh_  
(n.) a place of torment one believes they are in when separated from their lover; hell

This was it: this was hell. Perhaps it was just a little bit melodramatic, but Draco had always been just a little bit melodramatic anyway, and it was hardly time to start changing that, especially when there was no harm done by melodrama. Not like there was with unfortunate curses being used on hapless innocents, at least. Never mind that what he was currently likening to hell was mostly just the fact that his bed was empty; he could try as much as he liked to simply pretend that there was someone else there, but it just wasn't true.

The fact of the matter was that he'd gotten very used to having Theo around lately. He'd seen him too much over the last seven years to be able to deal with this sort of separation, though it had hardly been in the same sort of way. No, the last few weeks - since the Battle of Hogwarts, since the war trials started and ended in as quiet a manner as could be managed, Draco had been using Theo's presence as his rock. His friend was a stark reminder that he could not break down, no matter how much he wanted to; he had to remain strong and sturdy, if for no other reason than his own embarrassment.

Theo had never judged him for crying before, and had even provided a shoulder on which to do so, but he hardly wanted to make a habit of it. Instead, he kept things bottled up, locked behind a mask that suggested he was untouchable. It was as much for his own benefit as it was for Theo's; he needed his friend to think that he was capable, that he wasn't quite as shattered as he felt. Draco wasn't an idiot, after all - he'd figured out that Theo fancied him. Admittedly, he had gone an exceedingly long time without realising it, but he knew _now_ , and that was sort of the point of the thing, he thought.

Of course, then there was all the expectations to consider. Suffice to say, Draco honestly didn't spend a whole lot of time on the topic.

He loosed a soft sigh, flopping onto his back so he could stare up at the familiar ceiling of his bedroom. Somehow, the place had become his one beacon of hope back during the war. It was a space where he could simply exist, where he could ignore everything else that went on outside the door. It had been a space time and again where he and Theo could simply sprawl out and speak in hushed tones about whatever came to mind, and for Draco's best friend, that was quite a lot. He couldn't even keep track of all the things they'd discussed, whether it was serious discussion or something frivolous, meant to make him laugh when all he wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry.

He realised belatedly that most of what Theo had done during the war had been to try and ease up some of that. Perhaps not all - there was definitely some that was meant for his own benefit - but there was definitely quite a bit that seemed to have been for Draco's. It had worked, obviously. Theo had become synonymous with comfort and reassurance in his mind, and now that he wasn't around any more, now that things had gone back to 'normal' as most people were calling it, he was finding that the distance was bothering him more than he thought it would.

It really was hell. There was a palpable sense of loss that Draco kept telling himself was stupid; he could easily owl his friend, set up some sort of meeting place. But that wasn't the point. Hanging out wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be safe, in that comfortable space that once existed just for him and now seemed to be made even more safe and comfortable by a certain presence, and lacked something when that presence was gone.

Draco knew full well that it was all in his head, but that didn't change how incredibly frustrating the whole thing was. He couldn't stand it. Perhaps it was more that he couldn't stand the knowledge that he might have fancied Theo back in some way, though. With another huffed sigh, the blond rolled over, pressing his face into pillows that smelled faintly of his friend's shampoo, and gave a quiet, muffled groan.

He _definitely_ needed to stop thinking about it.


End file.
